


Caimarilis [First Beta Chapter]

by SilkenFerocity



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biotic Turian, F/M, Post-War, Turian Cabal, post-Synthesis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkenFerocity/pseuds/SilkenFerocity
Summary: Caimarilis Shepard-Vakarian is the adopted turian daughter of Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, biologically Garrus's cousin.  Her biotics manifested at a young age in a dire situation, leading her to join the biotic faction of turian military training at age 15.  But she is there for another purpose, too: as a double agent for the Shadow Broker, she's been tasked with finding out whatever she can about what the biotic matriarch, Voroia Indraka, has been up to since the war.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Original Turian Character(s)/Original Turian Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Caimarilis [First Beta Chapter]

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for visiting! This story takes place after my post-Synthesis work, The Green Wave. (At the time of this posting, it's not yet done, but very close.) That being said, you don't have to read all of that to understand this one, but there are some things about the synthesized universe it may be important to know.
> 
> The two biggest differences to be aware of can be described as heightened intuition and empathy.
> 
> You know how you may sometimes think of a person out of the blue, and then later get a message or call from them? Or maybe you think of a song and suddenly hear it everywhere? Or maybe you've had a time when you feel compelled to go out of your way and do something differently, and at the time it doesn't make sense, but then later it does? IRL, you might think "how weird!", or feel lucky, or like you have a guardian angel. With synthesis, these events are commonplace, and everyone trusts and understands them for what they are: a synth-effect. It does not happen for every single event, but it is quite frequent. Both organics and synthetics experience this.
> 
> This sense of "I just know" has led to many scientific breakthroughs. Many new ways of treating illnesses have been developed, but not everything has a cure or even symptom management. Technological advances have also been widespread, but things are still evolving, and could still differ greatly over the next century. There has already been an increase in the functioning speed of organic brains; reflexes and problem-solving skills have improved.
> 
> Empathy is feeling what another person is feeling. Emotions travel more easily like energy. You may be standing in a crowd and sense that someone is around you is very sad, or very angry, before you even know where it is coming from. This empathy can be used intentionally or unintentionally. This does not mean that people cannot hide their feelings; they can, but it takes a higher level of self-awareness to do so. Both organics and synthetics will experience this kind of empathy, though it is believed most organics still experience emotions on a deeper level than most synthetics.
> 
> This empathy also has a strong effect in the mental health and general behaviors of groups. If a generally cheerful person spends time with five friends who are feeling very depressed, it's very likely they will also end up depressed, in perhaps as short an amount of time as a single week. The same can have an opposite effect, uplifting those who feel depressed by bringing them into a warm, accepting community. The Citadel Council has put measures into place to encourage peace; resources are available for individuals and groups to practice mindfulness and coping skills as well as conflict resolution. Many happy and thriving communities have only grown more so, but the opposite is also true; discordant communities have grown more disconnected, bitter, and hateful. This has been most apparent in colonies where the majority of the population has been batarians who live closely to the lifestyle of those on their home planet. Because empathy is directly contradictory to their strict caste system as well as lifestyle of utilizing slave labor, they have become extremely vicious and unreasonable, resistant to harmony and quick to conflict with others. That being said, batarians who have lived in more moderate communities of Council space are frequently very pleasant people.
> 
> These synth-effects can be utilized at different levels of efficiency, based on an individuals level of self-awareness and self-mastery. Some are very practiced, and some are not. All that being said, there's still plenty of opportunities for mystery, deception, and adventure!

My time had come.

I was fifteen years old, and  _ finally _ setting out for a brand new life that was all mine.

The personal transport didn’t look like much. Sure, it was fancy, but it was also small and streamlined. It was more about where it was taking me, anyway. I could see everyone else aboard from where I sat: the pilot, my personal chaperone, and one more I think was supposed to be security. They were all turian.

My chaperone, Rutiana, was the only other female, and seemed nice enough, though not especially talkative. The ship was silent for most of the trip, save for the hum of it’s engines and the vacuum outside pressing in. I turned to the window and first saw my reflection; cobalt eyes, darker than my adoptive father’s, and sand colored skin and plates, still barefaced. I changed my focus, preferring the void of space.

My nerves were buzzing. The anticipation was even more brutal while sitting still, doing nothing on this ship. Every other trip through space I’d been on I’d had someone I knew and trusted. Not this time.

I remembered my dad reassuring me before departure, “Don’t worry. They know who they’ll have to answer to if anything happens to you.” I wouldn’t have ever expressed the trepidation I was feeling, but he knew, and those words comforted me. He winked and I grinned as these new turians squirmed under the intense gazes of both Garrus Vakarian and Commander Shepard.

Fifteen was the standard age for turians to enter military training, but I was not a standard case. As a biotic, my training and life would be very separate from the traditional military path. I’d known this since the day my biotics manifested, but this voyage was making it clear just how isolated it would be. I think that’s what made my dad nervous about me leaving, too; he didn’t have any experience in this world and no specific advice to give me. Plenty of non-specific advice, though.

Suddenly, with a shift in course, I could see our destination. It was big enough to be it’s own city! It reminded me of Omega in shape: a cylindrical hub with many separate horizontal layers. I didn’t get the proper perspective to count, but it seemed there were more than ten.

“Welcome to Paramount,” Rutiana said emphatically. As I watched the partitions zoom by, many seemed to be completely powered down.

“Why are those parts dark?” I asked curiously.

“We only use what we need.” Rutiana’s tone was unexpectedly flat, but she put a smile back on her face when I turned to look at her. “I think the Magna Duxis will have something special arranged for your arrival.”

“Because of my parents?” I assumed without enthusiasm, my mandibles twitching.

“I’m sure you already know that many in the galaxy are curious about how you'll grow up,” Rutiana answered with a shrug. “Since you've become one of us, we've been watching closer. I hear you'll have a big audience for your whole assessment."

“I’m not a biotic prodigy.” What would that audience be expecting?

“How many other turians have you compared your biotic skills to?” she questioned.

“Well… none, I guess.”

“Prodigy or not, this will be your chance.”

I liked the sound of that.

The shuttle promptly docked and I hefted my bag of personal belongings onto my shoulder as I disembarked with Rutiana and the guard. The docks didn’t look much different than any other docks I had seen, though I hadn't expected to see so many ships of various size lined up in either direction. No one else was in view except for another female turian approaching. She seemed a little older than my parents, with dark gray skin and detailed tendrils of navy paint on most of her face. Her smile was warm, her eyes excited, and she was clutching a datapad.

“Welcome to Paramount,” she purred, stopping before us. “I’m thrilled to meet you, Caimarilis. I am Archduxis Auna Nivaso.”

“I go by Cai,” I informed her, then did my best to be polite. “Nice to meet you. I don’t understand the titles you are using.”

“Alright then, Cai,” Auna said pleasantly. “Let’s head to your assessment and welcome party; I’ll explain the titles as we go.” She turned and I fell into step beside her, the others following.

“Does everyone get a welcome party?” I asked.

“To some degree, yes,” she answered. We entered a hallway and turned right. Most of the metal making up the station was bright and chrome. Along the corners of the hallway, where the floor and ceiling met the walls, a thin strip of blue lighting was pulsing in the direction we were walking. "Typically, new enrollees arrive in groups, and all are assessed and placed at once."

"I don't want special treatment," I grunted. "Isn't that frowned upon in military organizations?"

"We've got our own set of rules," Auna explained proudly. I glanced through a dark window into another room we passed. It appeared dark on the inside as well, with no occupants. Lockers and what appeared to be turian space suits lined the walls; an armory, perhaps.

"Rules set by the Magna Duxis, right?" I said.

"Correct," Auna purred. "There is one Magna Duxis, Voroia Indraka. She is the matriarch of all biotic turians. Similar to the way Primarch Fausna represents and makes decisions for the hierarchy, Magna Duxis Voroia Indraka does so for us biotics."

"How many Archduxis are there?"

"Over a hundred. We handle high-profile business for the Magna Duxis. When you enter training, you'll have a Dux or Duxis as your supervisor," Auna informed her. We passed another room, much larger, but also dark and empty. It appeared to have many tables and counters; a mess hall.

"If I forget this title will I be whipped in the courtyard?" I asked facetiously, unable to help myself. Auna gave a small laugh, her mandibles fluttering.

"No," she answered. "You don't have to use them when you address us, or anything like that. But it is good to be aware of."

"I imagine anyone with such a title will inform me upon introduction," I assumed. Rutiana snorted behind me before answering.

"That's accurate."

"Is the goal to rise through the ranks?" I inquired. We passed several smaller rooms with large tables or small desks; meeting rooms or debriefing stations. Why was it so empty if so many ships were docked here? Then we took another turn which I thought was leading us more towards the center of the station.

"Not necessarily. Many important roles do not have a Dux or Duxis title. A lot will become more clear as you get more comfortable here," Auna said, redirecting the topic. "For now, just focus on the evaluation and your resulting placement. You'll have a full orientation when you get to your new station."

"Right." I rolled my shoulders and flexed my hands into fists. "So where's this welcome party, and who do I have to fight?"

"Well, your audience should be right here."

The last turn abruptly ended in closed doors. Auna stepped to the side, grinning and gesturing for me to lead the way. I didn’t waste any time and stepped confidently forward. The doors slid open and revealed a room that was definitely well-lit and fully occupied. It reminded me of a sports arena, with a large flat court surrounded by amphitheater seating. Every available spot was occupied by a turian, and many were even standing on the ground floor. The drone of their conversations, tones filled with curiosity and anticipation, quickly quieted as the hundreds of eyes turned to me. I felt the energy travel through me like a wave in the ocean. I scanned the crowd and noticed many different ages and face paint patterns among them. I briefly noted the presence of various equipment set up throughout the room, but then had my attention drawn to one turian approaching me.

Voroia Indraka’s advanced age was immediately apparent. The dull gray skin on her neck sagged, dotted with rust colored scales. While she stood almost straight, her torso seemed to resist movement, as if she had broken her back and were wearing a brace. Her loose, white tunic fluttered as she hobbled forward, and I couldn't help smiling as the gait reminded me of Uncle Joker. The pilot was one of my favorite friends.

The matriarch had to easily be over one hundred, old enough to be the grandmother of the next oldest turian present. The edges of her face plates were not straight and smooth, but had many small chips making them jagged. Extra layers of crest poked out from behind her cheek plates, curving around towards the back of her head.

Her face paint was bright and vibrant, likely touched up frequently. Biotic blue tendrils made their way up and out from the center of her face, swirling over her forehead crest and cheeks. Blue dotted the plate over her nose and completely covered both extra long mandibles. Her smile was wide, bright, and warm.

"Welcome to Paramount, Cai! I'm so happy you're here," she exclaimed as though welcoming an old friend. Her voice was mature but strong, and even beautiful. How did she know to call me Cai?

"Thank you, Magna Duxis." I looked pointedly at the audience and gestured to the room before adding loudly, "I would've dressed up if I'd known I'd be putting on a show." A ripple of amusement went through the crowd and Voroia shared in the chuckle.

"When you begin the evaluation, you'll be glad for the functionality," Voroia told me, seeming to approve of my comfy active wear. "Auna, will you take Cai's bag for now?" I handed my bag to Auna and allowed the Magna Duxis to lead me into the middle of the room. "Observers are not uncommon for assessments, but it's been a while since we've had standing room only. You've got many fans and many friends here already."

“I tend to find those a lot, even when I’m not looking for them.” I shrugged, casually observing the crowd once more. I found Voroia’s same face paint pattern on many of the older turians present.

“What  _ are _ you looking for, Cai?” Her tone was expectant and smooth, compelling me to answer with nothing but unabashed honesty.

“My place,” I mumbled, my hands clenching into fists. “Myself.” A grin spread out across Voroia's face and she responded with pride.

"I can certainly help with that."

*****

Just a few months prior, I had been eagerly awaiting my departure for training, but my parents were acting strange. More than once I’d hear my name while they were quietly conversing, but they’d stop talking or change subjects when I was noticed. Finally, one night when my brother was out playing with friends, I called them on it. They were both lingering in the kitchen after dinner, Garrus at the sink doing dishes and Shepard sipping something warm in a mug as she leaned back against the counter. They'd paused their conversation when I entered again.

"Do you guys have something to tell me?"

They looked at each other. I didn’t know how sharp they had been before, but even two decades after the end of the Transcendent War, I had rarely, if ever, seen them less than ready for anything. I was certain they'd still been participating in the occasional top secret operation, too, but knew better than to ask about that business. Frequently the two of them could communicate with just a glance, and they seemed to come to an agreement now.

"We do," Shepard nodded. "In fact… we may have a mission for you."

"A mission?" I gasped. Shepard grinned at my reaction. I craved my own adventure, and she knew it. "Are you serious? Or is this like when you send me into town to get more bread?" I added, hesitant to get my hopes up.

"Not like that," Garrus chuckled, putting the last dish away and turning to face me. "It has to do with your biotic training."

"As you're developing your skills and learning how that faction works, there's an opportunity for you to covertly do some work, and maybe save some lives," Shepard explained, her tone becoming serious.

"Like infiltration? Espionage? Be a… double agent?" I questioned. Shepard nodded.

"That's a kind of mission your mother and I have never done before," Garrus pointed out.

"We've always just had to get in, get it done, and get out," Shepard confirmed. "You'll experience more of a…"

"Slow burn," Garrus finished for her.

I could feel my heart racing. I wanted nothing more than to do something grand with my life, and not remain in their grand shadows. I loved them both, dearly, but I knew their lives were not mine, and mine was not theirs. Until that moment, however, I had no idea what mine would become.

“Who’s the target?” I asked, squaring my shoulders. Shepard paused, her expression tender and proud.

“You look just like a resolute operative, someone I might have recruited back in the day,” she murmured with a small chuckle, then shook her head and turned to retrieve a datapad from a high cupboard. “The target is information, but the subject isn’t low profile.” She brought up an image on the device and showed it to me. My stomach turned as I recognized the famous biotic blue face paint.

"That's Voroia Indraka. She's in charge of the biotic turians," I said, looking back at my parents.

"That's right," Garrus confirmed, shifting his weight but watching me pointedly. "There's concerns that her behind-the-scenes operations have become less and less ethical since the end of the war." My brow furrowed.

"I'm not a skilled hacker. How can I get the intel?"

"You probably won't get much, at first. Those in training rarely leave the facilities only biotic turians have access to, and we know outgoing messages aren't easy either," Garrus answered. "It's believed, however, that she uses agents further in their training, part of the Cabal, to steal intel from others. If and when you're sent on those assignments, you'll copy what you get and turn it in, as well as anything else you can. Someone else will be tasked with analyzing whatever you get."

"I send it to you?" I gestured at both of them.

"What?" Garrus blinked.

"Oh, no, this mission isn't for us," Shepard clarified, waving her hands dismissively. "But it is for someone we've had… mutually beneficial dealings with." She and Garrus exchanged another glance. "The Shadow Broker."

My stomach turned again, and I nearly dropped the datapad on the counter. That name was more legendary than Voroia Indraka.

“The  _ Shadow Broker? _ ” I gasped. “I’d be working for the  _ Shadow Broker? _ ”

“ _ With _ the Broker, not for,” Shepard corrected. “There’s a difference.” Garrus chuckled and I vaguely reflected on what I knew of mom’s temporary alliance with the controversial group Cerberus, but I was quickly back to the topic at hand.

“Do you  _ know _ the Shadow Broker?” I asked, unphased by any "with" or "for" distinction.

"We know they helped with the war effort, and we've had other positive dealings since, but none we can talk about." Shepard said in a way that discouraged further questions. "The biotic turian faction, especially the Cabal within it, has been untouchable, even for the Broker, because Voroia tends to emotionally manipulate those who join her forces. Typically, she befriends and supports the family of any turian the moment they learn they are biotic. Combine that with the isolation of training, and even new recruits are intensely loyal. Because of our status and the way we've protected our privacy, becoming close with you hasn't been an option for Voroia yet."

"Which is why I'm the perfect one for the job," I mumbled with stark realization.

"It's why, right now, you're the  _ only _ one for the job," Garrus affirmed. My heart was racing again.

"All that being said, whether you do this or not is entirely up to you, and we honestly don't know what kind of danger it may put you in if the stakes get high," Shepard said carefully. I nodded a little to show I understood the seriousness of the situation. Seeming satisfied, Shepard went on, "If you want to move forward with it, we have a full briefing for you to look over."

I paused just long enough to not seem reckless before declaring: "I want to see it."

*****

I stood in a corner of the arena next to a table holding numerous snacks and drinks just for me. I had been told there was only one part of the assessment left, but it would need some preparation, and I would need refueling. Voroia was on the other side of the room, speaking quietly to a group of turians closer to my age and Archduxis Auna while I gratefully gobbled up my third piece of jerky and downed several cups of juice.

So far, I'd lifted a mechanical box that got heavier the higher it was until I couldn't anymore, held up a barrier while the tallest turian I'd ever seen shot at it with guns of various caliber (and even a flamethrower), shredded a large block of various density as best I could, and navigated a small action figure (which, to my amusement, was modeled after Garrus Vakarian) through a labyrinth constructed of moving laser lights. I was giving each objective my absolute best, working up a sweat, and having fun. I relished the fatigue in my muscles and low warmth coming from my implant.

I was halfway through a delicious pastry, surveying the group Voroia was speaking with, when my eyes locked with someone else's.

Everyone except for this particular turian was focused on the Magna Duxis, but he was focused on me. His skin was incredibly dark, a hint of brown discernible only due to the bright lighting. Two wide stripes of cream colored face paint ran vertically above and below his eyes, contrasting both his umber skin beneath the plates and striking amber eyes. I was used to being stared at, but I wasn’t used to it feeling… like this. His gaze pierced me as if he could see everything about me. It rivaled the level of intensity my dad’s eyes got when I was in trouble, or the way he’d look at my mom when they were being either very serious, or very playful. I was so captivated I didn’t realize I’d stopped eating or that the Magna Duxis had approached.

“Are you feeling rejuvenated?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah…” The other turian’s expression remained unchanged as I forced myself to look away from him. “This is good food, I appreciate it.”

"With biotics being integral to our work, we know best how to support their use," Voroia beamed. "Our cuisine is specially designed with the proper nutrients."

“It shows.” I used my biotics to propel the last of my pastry up and into my mouth.

"Good. This part of the evaluation is when you'll have an actual opponent."

“Great!” I chugged one more glass of water and rubbed my hands together. “Who is it?”

"Actually, you'll be choosing." Voroia smiled as she led me towards the middle of the room. The group the Magna Duxis had been talking to earlier had cleared all of the equipment off to the side, and was now arranging themselves in a line across the room so that I could see them all. "These are your options. Those on the left are not as far along in their training as those on the right. Those in the middle are closest to your skill level, based on my observance of your assessment thus far."

"Are there specific rules for what tactics are allowed?" I asked, looking over my prospective opponents. There were eleven of them.

"For simplicity and safety, the goal will be simply to push each other out of your assigned ring," Voroia answered, gesturing to two circles painted on the floor about 35 feet apart. "You'll have chances to spar with more advanced tactics later. If you easily defeat your opponent, you may choose again. If you are easily defeated, you may choose again. The goal is to find where you are well matched, and also to determine how your performance changes when you've got a live opponent and not inanimate objects."

"Got it." I nodded affirmatively. Not one to be intimidated, I looked over the turians on the right. The ninth spot was held by a beautiful female turian; tall, silver skin, intricate burgundy face paint, and jade eyes. As my gaze lingered, she gained the tiniest smirk. By that point I knew what I had to do, and I did it fearlessly.

"You."

"Step into the circles, Cai and Neftis. The rest of you, ready the landing pads," the Magna Duxis instructed. I stepped into my circle, just a little wider than my arm span, and watched as a few turians used their biotics to lift a large cushioned mat behind Neftis and myself.

"Oh, is that where I'm aiming?" I asked, gesturing as though I were practicing launching Neftis backward. I didn’t know if I was going to win, but I never lacked bravado. Some of the audience chuckled and Neftis's smirk grew wider.

"She's going to regret this," one of the trainees holding the mat behind me said to another. I whipped my head around and looked at who had spoken; a male with red face paint, from the fifth spot. He didn't shy away from my gaze and both of our mandibles twitched. Without a word, I turned back towards Neftis who appeared patient and leisurely.

"Ready?" That one word from Voroia brought an anticipatory silence. We both carefully balanced our weight and nodded.

"Begin."

With a  _ vwuomsh  _ I sent a wall of biotics forward. Neftis waited until the last moment to put up her wall, then pushed my biotics a few feet back with little apparent effort. I grunted and pushed harder but Neftis's energy continued to bring the point where they clashed closer to me. My jaw was clenched, my body tense, but Neftis looked somewhat relaxed. I squeezed my eyes shut and when they opened again, I could tell they were glowing blue.

"Don't  _ play  _ with me!" I snarled. Neftis smiled.

"Okay!" Neftis carefully inhaled, then swung her shoulders and arms forward as though she were pouncing upon prey. My stance cracked as both my and my opponent's biotics slammed into me and flung me many feet backward. The other turians saved me from an impact on the unforgiving metal wall by positioning the cushion properly, but the  _ thud _ of my body hitting the mat made it clear it was not a soft landing. I slumped onto the floor, managing to get my hands and knees under me but feeling like my muscles were made of vibrating jelly. I took deep breaths and waited for the feeling to wear off; a headache sunk in. There was no doubt I would feel that for a few days.

"Neftis has a decisive win, with an honorable showing from Cai," Voroia announced, and the audience responded approvingly with nods and hums, a turian equivalent to polite applause. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neftis grandstanding, spreading her arms wide and dipping her head to the crowd multiple times.

"I'll go again," I said firmly. "Just give me a minute."

"Of course. Feel free to get refreshments if needed," Voroia said with a nod.

After I had mostly caught my breath, I pushed myself up to my feet, making sure I was steady there before stretching and flexing my arms and neck.

"Alright," I grunted. Then I turned to face the trainee with the red face paint, who had made the comment before, and pointed right at his chest. "You. Let's go." He seemed surprised, and then amused.

"Okay," he scoffed, then left the mat and headed for the far circle.

"Cai has chosen Kadus for her next opponent," Voroia announced, appearing pleased. "To the circles, then. Ready the mats." Everyone prepared and then gave the signal that they were ready. "Begin."

_ Fwoumph! _ The two forces crashed together in the middle, the hum filling the room. The initial collision was a test, but neither of us were playing. I pushed harder, and the energy moved towards Kadus, causing him to take a step backward. His stance changed and I tried to capitalize before he could recover, and it worked. Kadus's biotics faltered, then faded. He managed to balance the force enough to keep his feet under him even as they slid out of the circle and his back hit the mat, suffering less impact than I had, but a solid loss nonetheless.

"Cai is triumphant," Voroia announced, and again the audience purred. I took a deep breath and dismissed the lingering biotics as I exhaled, as I’d been taught in brief practice sessions with Liara. She hadn't taught me much, but she had taught me how to remain in control and safely practice simple tasks. My parents later told me that Voroia had offered to send an envoy to teach me those skills, but they'd declined, trusting Liara more.

"I know how to lose without regretting it," I told Kadus. "There's your chance to practice." I’d been outclassed in many things many times, despite my confidence (or show of confidence) going in, but it was true that I’d never regretted landing flat on my back. Kadus didn't say anything, just scoffed again as he carefully stepped to the side of the room amidst amazed and amused murmurs from the onlookers.

"I'll go again," I said again to Voroia. "One moment." I walked back towards the snacks, careful and aware of the fatigue in my body, but trying to not let it show too much. As I drank half a glass of juice, I scanned the other turians again, trying to remember where each of them had been in the line. I caught the male with dark skin and cream face paint staring at me again, his expression unreadable. I raised one brow and his mandibles twitched, but otherwise he remained stoic.

"What number were you?" I asked.

"Seven." His voice was low and gravelly. I threw back the rest of my juice and set the glass down definitively.

"Let's do this." The other turian just nodded and we both walked towards our positions.

"Cai and Arruso will be the final match-up," the Magna Duxis announced. Everyone readied efficiently and so it wasn't long before she once again said, "Begin."

_ Fwoumsh! _

Our energies met in the middle, fierce and resolute. For the first minute, we both refused to give up any ground, but we couldn't stay there forever. I braced myself and threw everything I had at him. I thought I saw his feet start to slide, but he was ready with a retaliation after I was spent. With a growl he pushed back, and once more my biotics cracked and I was hit with a wave that knocked me off my feet. A sudden change of force made my stomach turn, and instead of hitting the mat I found myself stopped and in stasis before being gently set back down on my feet.

"Arruso is victorious," the Magna Duxis announced.

The stasis dissipated and I steadied myself, then looked up at Arruso as the biotic glow faded from his eyes. The crowd was once again showing their approval, but I paid it no attention.

"You didn't have to go easy on me," I snapped, standing up straight.

"I didn't," Arruso replied. "I used what I needed to get you out. Letting you hit the mat again just seemed… unnecessary."

"I can take it," I affirmed, mandibles flaring briefly. Arruso's fluttered in response.

"But you don't have to."

I opened my mouth, but didn't have a retort, so I just glared at him. Was this supposed to be mercy? Pity? I didn't understand it. He held my gaze, unphased by my frustration, as Voroia and Auna approached.

"This has been a splendid assessment to witness," Voroia praised. "Thank you, Cai." I huffed and turned away from Arruso.

"What's next?" I grunted.

"Now, you rest," Voroia purred. "I'd like to give you a chance to get to know some of the recruits you'll be working with, and let them tell you about what happens next. Auna will take you all to visit until the transport to your station is prepared."

"Okay," I exhaled and my shoulders dropped. My fatigue was plenty willing to make itself known now. The crowd was beginning to disperse, some lingering to chat with others.

"I'll be going back to my personal quarters as well. I look forward to seeing you again soon." The Magna Duxis took my hand and squeezed it while her other hand patted my shoulder. Affection seemed to pour from her in a way that reminded me of Aunt Liara; kind, warm, and infinitely wiser than me. Voroia stopped along the way to speak with a few older turians who had her pattern of face paint, and I noticed Neftis talking to Arruso (who was finally no longer staring at me) before Auna directed my attention to some others who had approached. Kadus was one of them, still looking grumpy about his loss, and the others were introduced to me.

Silnaen: dark gray skin, blocky yellow face paint, and bright green eyes.

"Neftis is my cousin," she told me flatly, then added with a polite nod, "I was rooting for you."

Next, Kestik: copper skin, pastel purple face paint in a single wide horizontal stripe, and dark brown eyes. He flashed a smile he seemed to know was quite charming.

And Juveta: russet skin, barefaced like me, and pale blue eyes. She seemed to be bouncing with energy, grinning and waving at me. They all seemed to be fairly close to my age, but Juveta appeared the youngest.

Auna handed me my bag, which I wasn't looking forward to carrying.

"I've got our dock assignment; we can walk to one of the lobbies and await the ship's ready signal there. Please follow me," Auna said. The six of us departed the arena, with the Archduxis leading the way.

"I noticed there were a lot of ships at the docks," I remarked. "Are there that many different stations for the group here to go to?"

"Yes, we all come and go from many places. Paramount is like the dispatch center. Large gatherings are held here, and those going out on assignment come here first. It keeps things organized and discreet," Auna answered, then turned to address the others. "Why don't you tell Cai about the first portion of training and service, and the station she'll be headed to?"

"For the first three years of your time here, you'll be rotated through three different job assignments, a year at each," Juveta began, her petite voice sounding official as if she were reciting a paragraph from a brochure. "These jobs hone our biotic skills as well as help support the health and economy of our community. Outside of work, we also have training sessions with the tutors who travel from post to post twice a week."

"And we always have time to rest, and access to excellent food," Silnaen added. "Even our own bedspace."

"And frequent opportunities for recreation," Kestik chimed in.

"In other words, we are very well taken care of," Kadus muttered, not meeting my gaze. Of course; treat newcomers very well, and give them an important job to help them feel valuable and needed. It was a sound strategy to breed the kind of loyalty Voroia seemed to depend on.

"Sounds like a nice life," I commented, and Auna beamed proudly. "What happens after three years?"

"You'll meet with the Magna Duxis and a council who have watched your progress to determine the best path for you. There's many different occupations available, which you'll learn more about as you go," the Archduxis informed me.

"Alright then," I nodded. "What job assignment did my performance get me?"

"You were particularly skilled at the detail oriented tasks," Auna remarked.

"That's about all I could safely practice back home," I admitted sheepishly.

"The swamp is a great place to start, trust me," Kestik assured me.

"The Frielind  _ Moor _ is my favorite," Auna admitted, correcting Kestik's term.

"We call it the swamp," Juveta giggled, as though Auna couldn't hear her.

"For the first few days, you won't have to work. You'll have a bit of time to settle in and get familiar with the outpost," Silnaen told me.

"Silnaen, how about you be her guide? I believe there's an open den for Cai right next to you…" Auna drifted off thoughtfully, pulling up what appeared to be schematics on her datapad. She then gave a nod of confirmation.

"Alright," Silnaen shrugged, then looked at me pointedly. "I'll tell you when to check the mess hall to get first pick of the snacks." I grinned.

"You're a saint."

"We go by Palaven time, because the days on the work planet can get a little wonky," Kestik went on, sounding excited. "Every quarter we have a big party with our station, and at the end of the year we come back to Paramount for a gala."

"I haven't been to many parties," I admitted.

"They're awesome," Kestik grinned.

"I can't wait for my first chance to go!" Juveta squealed.

"Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have kept you in a bit of a bubble, haven't they?" Kadus said, and I bristled at his slightly teasing tone. I lifted my chin and looked pointedly at him.

"Yes and no," I replied carefully, preparing to do something I rarely did: name drop. "I may have been sheltered from a lot of the rest of the universe, but my childhood bubble included holidays with Liara T'Soni, who always brought souvenirs from her recent discoveries. I practiced at the shooting range with both of the first human Spectres, not to mention my dad. I camped outdoors in the untamed wilds of Rannoch with the quarians and the geth, and I vacationed on Tuchanka with Urdnot Wrex and Urdnot Grunt. So yes, it was a different life, but not one I'd ever wish to trade."

Kadus looked away, but seemed less phased by my retort than he had by my beating him in the arena. Kestik was grinning, and Silnaen and Juveta both waited to see if Kadus would reply. Even Auna seemed to be expecting something. But he didn't keep the banter going. He just kept walking, eyes ahead. The silence caused me to wonder if perhaps I'd hit too hard.

"...honestly, I haven't seen this many turians in one place since the last time we visited Cipritine," I added, attempting to lighten things again.

"Get used to it," Silnaen said. "You're gonna see nothing but turians for a long time."

We stepped into a huge room with a window overlooking the docks taking up an entire wall. Many of the other turians were milling about, and there was even a counter filled with refreshments. The hum of their conversations and the ships powering up and disembarking made this the most busy Paramount had felt yet. I walked to the window and gazed out at the many biotic operatives returning to their assignments. Juveta and Silnaen joined me.

"Does Voroia stay on Paramount?" I asked curiously.

"She has a quarters here, and an office where she handles important dealings. Only the Archdux and Archduxis have authorization to get to her office, though." Juveta answered. "She travels a lot, and visits each working post often. I've enjoyed her visits."

I spotted more of the turians with biotic face paint. They were all older, hardened by scars and openly carrying pistols and high-level models of omnitools. I was ready to bet they were the ones in the Cabal, willing to do any dirty work Voroia asked of them.

I was tempted to feel overwhelmed by the sheer might of the infrastructure I was tasked with infiltrating. How could I possibly gather enough intel on an organization as large as this? How many years would it be before I got anything useful?

In my mind I remembered my dad talking about this mission being different. A slow burn. I took a deep breath and reminded myself to relax. Right now, it was okay if my only focus was to learn and grow and get better and stronger. Maybe even some partying. Intel didn't have to come first.

This was only the beginning.


End file.
